


I live by the river

by anicula



Series: take some time [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 13:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anicula/pseuds/anicula
Summary: Moving to England is easy. Living in England is a little harder. Tina copes.





	I live by the river

The weight sitting in her chest was uncomfortably heavy as she made her way through his workshop. A space well worn and well cared for. It was clear from the smooth wooden enclosures and the bright green plants, the animals lazing away on rocky outcrops and the tiny bowtruckles scampering up and down branches that they were cherished and loved by their caretaker.

 _Caretakers_ , she corrected herself mentally. The redhead, though ruthlessly efficient in her job, was gentle with the creatures and the creatures in turn, seemed to enjoy her attention. Tina pulled at her knuckles, uncertain and off centered now that she was freed from any help she could offer. The redhead offered her no reprieve. So - she stretched out her hands where it was welcomed and soothed the creatures as they took in their evening meal and gave out kisses to those who remembered her and shoved their faces into hers, demanding attention she was all too willing to give. 

“You can stay in the foyer Miss Goldstein.” The redhead finally turned to look at her after Dougal bounded to her enthusiastically, dodging his plate of dinner in search of her. 

Tina bent down. “Hello,” she greeted him with a head pat before turning back to the redhead, “It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting with you.” 

The look on the redhead’s face was that  _she_  clearly minded but she didn’t say anything else, opting to turn back to the animals and leave Dougal’s plate on the floor near them. 

Tina sighed. She could - if she was a better person - just take herself away and never come back. Never invading this soft, distinctly English space with her American idiosyncrasies again. Leave things the way they were meant to be. But the vines twisting in the pit of her stomach and up and around her chest, crawling its way into her throat kept her there. Tethered to a place where she was clearly unwanted by at least one resident. 

Her worrying hands were stilled by Dougal, the warm furry hands of the demiguise slipping into hers to stop her from picking at the skin of her nail beds. He gave her hands a pat not unlike what she gave him and butted his head against them. She smoothed the long fur hanging about his face with her fingers. His large liquid eyes focused on her eyes, like a particularly tranquil lake without a ripple. She smiled at the small, silvery creature, unsure of what he wanted to convey with his peculiar expression but not wanting to unsettle him. He gave her one last pat on the cheek before disappearing with his dinner. 

Tina pulled herself up from her crouch, wincing as her knees made themselves known. “So what time did you say Mr. Scamander would be back by?”

Bunty paused with her fingers in the slop bucket. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Tina shifted on her heels, suddenly all too aware of how distracted she had been when she had first arrived. “Do you know?” Tina trailed off, and then continued when Bunty only frowned, “When Mr. Scamander is coming back?”

“Soon,” was the highly uninformative answer Tina received. 

“All right.” Tina nodded, brushing her pants off. “Well I think I’ll just have a look around while I wait,” she said brightly, unwilling to be an unwanted shadow any longer.

“Don’t-” Bunty’s voice was sharp before it trailed off. She stood there with her hands twisted in the pail. “Don’t bother the animals,” she finished in a quieter voice. 

“Oh - I don’t think she could,” a voice interjected. 

“New - Mr. Scamander.” Tina could feel her tongue trip over itself. 

“Miss Goldstein,” Newt’s reply was warm. He was still in his wool coat, his hair windswept. 

Tina found herself cataloging the small changes she found in his face since the last time that she’d seen him. New freckles dotting the tops of his cheeks, skin tanner than ever, his hands with new callouses when he stretched them out to take hers in his. 

“How are you?” She fell back on social niceties with her brain decidedly out of commission when the sole thing it could think of was  _his hands_.

Newt looked askance, eyes skimming her shoulder and neck before he answered. “Good, Miss Goldstein. I am doing very well.” He looked back at her as he finished, his eyes unusually intent on her face. 

Tina licked her lips and cleared her throat, the skin on the back of her neck burning under his gaze. “That’s good, I-”

“Mr. Scamander,” Bunty broke in, “I’ve finished with the feeding, was there anything else you’d like me to do? I was thinking I could -” 

“No, Bunty. Thank you.” Newt reeled back from Tina to turn to face Bunty. “Please have a good evening - tell your mother hi from me.” 

“But-” 

“Really Bunty, thank you for your work today but I can’t possibly take up more of your evening and I think Miss Goldstein and I will be up to handling anything that should happen,” and here he looked at Tina for confirmation and Tina nodded, “Though before you leave - I really must thank you for letting Miss Goldstein in,” he added with a small smile towards Tina, “It is ghastly out.”

“Of course,” was Bunty’s only response. 

“Bunty?” Newt prompted when she stayed fixed in her spot. “Are you feeling alright?”

Bunty visibly shook herself, taking her eyes off of whatever had caught her eye. “I’m just fine, I’ll get going now,” and she scurried off, leaving the empty pail behind her. 

“Hmm,” Newt looked after her with a furrowed brow, “Did that seem strange to you?” 

“Strange how?” Tina felt her mouth quirk up. 

Newt sent her a droll look, untangling hands Tina hadn’t realized were still tangled to pick up the abandoned pail. “Strange as in unlike her usual behaviour.”

“And what’s her usual behaviour?” Tina forced herself to ask lightly, heart in her throat and reluctant to let her unease show. 

Newt scrunched up his face. “Well she usually says ‘bye’ for one.” He rinsed the pail with a quick wave of his wand. “And for another, she’s usually much harder to sway.” He looked up at Tina from his crouch on the floor. “Perhaps your auror presence encouraged her to follow the rules for once.” His grin was boyish and unassuming, no hint of understanding why Bunty was as dedicated as she was. 

The vines around Tina’s chest loosened a little. “Oh - I highly doubt that Mr. Scamander.”

Newt shrugged, smile still creasing the edges around his mouth. 

“And anyways - I’m not here for-” 

“Tea?” Newt looked up at her from under his fringe, hands shoved into his pockets now that his spot of cleaning was done. “A little tea before your investigating wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“Mr. Scaman-”

“Newt, please.”

Tina sighed. “I just have some forms for you to fill out. You know your latest acquisitions have to be ministry approved.”

“And you wouldn’t like any refreshments at all after trekking all the way across the country?” His kettle had already set itself on the little stove he had stashed inside the shed. 

She shot him a look before trading the papers stashed in her pocket for a steaming cup of tea. He took them with good humour and settled down at the table with a quill in hand. 

Tina inhaled deeply as she drank, the warmth seeping into her bones, cold being chased out of fingertips and bared cheeks. She settled into the only other chair available, watching him skim over the lines of ink. His lips moved a little as he read and she found herself with an inexplicable need to trace them with her fingers, the paleness of them so different from her own. She startled when he peeked at her from his reading station. 

“Miss Goldstein?”

“If I call you Newt, you could at least return the favour,” she said unthinkingly. And then flushed. 

The delight across Newt’s face was hard to miss. “Of course Tina.”

As she casted about for something to say, she remembered, “I have an invitation for you Mr - Newt.”

“Oh? Have they decided on a date?” He pushed his papers away to her chagrin and pulled his chair closer to hers. “Well, will it be a summer wedding after all?”

Tina held up the invitation for him to see in lieu of answering. 

“What Queenie wants, Queenie does indeed get,” he murmured as he flipped the invitation open to read it over.

“Hmm?” Tina probed, only catching the last bit of what he said. 

“Only that Jacob is managing to do his job very well.” He grinned at her. 

“Well he’d better.”

Newt’s eyes softened as he looked at her. “I don’t know anyone better,” he said softly. “Queenie’s going to be very happy.”

Tina did her best to smile, stretching unfamiliar muscles, and said, “I hope so.” She breathed in. “You should get back to those papers, I really do need to get back before the building closes.”

“So soon?” Newt’s brows drew together. 

Tina rubbed her knuckles. “You were out for a while.”

“I suppose so,” Newt stared down at the sheets of writing littering his table. 

Tina bit her lip. Took a breath. “You could always come with me? Queenie’s been trying out some dishes and she’s been wanting someone else’s opinion - says Jacob and I are too predictable.” 

Newt’s shoulders relaxed. “Of course. I’d love to come.”

 

“Oh Teenie,” Queenie’s voice was uncomfortably sympathetic. “You look perfectly lovely.” Queenie smoothed Tina’s curls over her ears. 

Tina pulled at her blue dress. It was not as showy as some of the items in Queenie’s closet, but it was still a far cry from her sensible work outfit of blouse and trousers. 

“Well of course it is - it’s a dress,” Queenie answered her thoughts, “But you look fantastic either way Teenie.” Queenie waved her wand over the wrinkle Tina had created in her dress. She straightened Tina’s dress and gave it a small pat. “And don’t go worrying over getting changed for dinner either Teen - I did it,” she said to Tina’s reflection, answering more of Tina’s unvoiced worries. She leaned in closer, “I know for a fact that man out there would be wrapped around your finger with or without that dress - well, maybe more without,” she added with a playful wink before ducking out of Tina’s room. 

Tina pressed her hands to her face, mentally sending Queenie reprimands, knowing her sister was ignoring her on purpose. She dropped her hands and sighed. There was no time left to change again, she’d dawdled enough as it was since they - she got home. She straightened up and headed for the stairs. 

Their little flat in London, while reminiscent of their New York apartment, was larger than what they could afford in New York and having two floors did not occur to her as a disadvantage until she found herself walking down the stairs with Newt standing at the bottom. 

He looked as he did when she left him there a scant ten minutes ago, hands in his pockets and head tilted towards Jacob and Queenie’s steady flow of conversation. This time though, his eyes were definitely tracking her movements despite the tilt of his head away from her. 

The walk down felt all too long, so conscious was she of every move she made, worrying her bottom lip over thoughts of how the blue fabric stretched over her hips with every step she took and the buttons emphasizing the unappealing line of her body. So different from the curves of - 

 _Stop that_. 

Queenie shot her a look over Newt’s shoulder, Newt having pivoted towards her the moment she reached the bottom step. 

“You got changed.” He flicked his eyes down once, quick, and kept them somewhere above her collar. 

“Yes.” Tina crossed her arms. “Was a bit - dusty.” She brushed down her skirt. 

Newt’s eyes met hers. “You look nice,” he offered with his head angled to the side. 

“Well, it’s just dinner.” Tina dropped the conversation to usher him towards the dining table where Queenie was hovering over the dishes while Jacob was setting the table. 

He bent his head towards her before she sat. “I still think you look beautiful,” he said in his appallingly earnest manner while pulling her chair out for her. 

Queenie beamed at him from across the table. “She does, doesn’t she honey?”

Jacob lifted his glass up to second Newt’s not so discrete words. “Ain’t ever seen anything so nice looking as a Goldstein,” he said, though his smile was directed to a certain blonde and not so much her sister. 

Tina’s only consolatory thought was that at least Newt turned as pink as she did. 


End file.
